Goodbye Sammy
by RememberGil
Summary: This is how I imagine the end of Supernatural. Rated T for Dean's swearwords. Deathfic, hurt!Sam hurt!Dean


**hey guys, I know it has been awhile since I posted but I had none inspiration and no motivation but I saw a post on IG and I** _ **needed**_ **to make it into a story. So here goes.**

 **How supernatural will end in the most torturous way imaginable.**

 **Goodbye Sammy**

The Winchester were back to back, shotguns loaded and primed. Their bodies strained and alert for any sort of supernatural trouble. Slowly walking forward into this monster's den.

The story had started as usual, children had gone missing after a ship had stranded on the beach, it had caught the attention of the Winchester brothers and being one of the best hunters in the U.S they had decided to check it out. It turned out it was the real thing. It was the creature called Sinterklaas, a version of Santa Claus from the Dutch people. He is a boogeyman, if you are nice you get presents, if not he whips the children, put them in a bag and take them to Spain. His homeland.

Dean honestly was sick and tired of these son of bitches boogeymans and them turning out to be real. He had the urge to curse and break something, mainly the book of Sinterklaas which Sinterklaas uses as a list to keep up which has been nice and who not. The single reason they were here. Because, if Sinterklaas didn't have his book, he couldn't tell the good kids from the bad, forcing him to stop.

The Winchesters stopped, they nearly scanned the entire christmas warehouse, except for this one room. The door was made of wood and decorated with a mistletoe, Dean saw that Sam was looking at it. Sam locked eyes with Dean. He mouthed the words; "Come on, one little kiss."

Dean was barely able to bite back his snappy remark, instead he hold out three fingers. Then two. One.

 **Bwam!**

With one powerful kick, Dean had forced the door open. Spinning his shotgun and flashlight into the dark room. Finding a old man, who was a single breath away from death. And he should know, he met Death, on more than one occasion.

Sammy instantly by his side checked the rest of the room, finding the six missing children with bloodied backs in the corner. He hoped they were unconscious. Not dead. The old man known as Sinterklaas sat by a desk writing in a old withered red book with inkt and a feather. It was unfazed with the brothers and the guns. The room was an abandoned office, waiting for the return of the month December, having collected an entire year worth of dust, you could say it was nasty. There were no windows, the file cabinets were covered with not so white sheets anymore. The only thing worth looking at was a staff. It was gold and shone with a glossy glow. The staff was shaped like a giant question mark, long and straight at the beginning and was curled at the top.

Sinterklaas himseld, had saggy skin hanging from his bones, his clothes were a mantel and a pointy hat that was called an 'mijter' and a white baggy shirt that belonged in the 19 century.

His white hair was thin and in need of a good wash. Plus the smell. Dean was used to some awful smells but fuck! He smelled like a male who had never heard from a shower, dragged himself through chemical waste and put a male cologne on for good reason.

Sammy walked towards the children, keeping his eyes on Sinterklaas. While his not so little brother checked the kids pulses Dean got closer to Sinterklaas. To be honest, Dean was uneasy with the lack of reaction of Sinterklaas. Almost always when the got the monster under gunpoint they would freak out, they never just ignored the person behind the gun.

He got to the point of standing right in front of him, Dean could see names and notities with each of them in a language he did not understand. Keeping the gun steady, Dean pulled his lighter out. He sparked a flame to life. After a second hesitation, he threw the lighter on the book.

Sinterklaas continued writing until he was writing on a pile of ash. He sagged then into the chair.

Sam was again by his side, it felt for Dean like a limb had been sleeping and was now buzzing like a beehive. Dean always was aware of where his brother was, just like Sam was aware were Dean was. They had a bond that came by once a century, if not millennia. A bond that was made by a rough childhood, even rougher adulthood. Being shot, stabbed, possessed, abused and much more and knowing the other brother was there for you. It was rare, Dean know that and was grateful for it. For that band.

Dean raised his head just by an inch, a question. _Are they alive?_

Sammy shook his head softly. _No, not one, they bled out._

 _Are you sure we can't kill him?_

 _No, Dean, we can only prevent him from killing children again, you know that._

 _That son of a bitch is getting off to easy,_

Though it was stupid and wrong Sammy put his hand on Dean's shoulder. Squeezing it and smiling at him. Dean looked at him, at his big little brother, and took in the sight. He hadn't seen Sammy smile in so long.

Later they would know that moment would be their death, and even later they would be happy about that moment was picked by Fate to end them.

Sinterklaas momentarily forgotten was faster than was possible, his speed almost equal to an Archangel, kicked the guns out of their loosened grips. He grabbed both their throats and lifted them off the floor.

Dean letting his training kick in, hit the man in all the weak spots humans have, elbows, wrist, ribs and face. And once again Sinterklaas just stood there, unmoving. Until he decided to have a little fun.

He dropped Sam with a force so strong that a web of cracks appeared from where he landed. But that wasn't what Dean feared, he and Sammy had experienced worst throwing fits and walked out alive, what worried Dean was the crack and wet ripping sound he heard. Sam roared a scream filled with white-hot pain and reached for his left side. His side that was already seeping red. Blood, Winchester blood.

" **I'm going to kill you, you son of a bitch!"** Dean roared as loud as he could with his air still cut off. His sight was starting to have black edges and he struggled against the steel grip of the old man like a wild wolf would have struggled when cornered. The old man smiled, showing his yellow and rotten teeth, his gums filled with maggots. It said:

"Ik denk dat ik je toon niet echt bepaald beleefd vind joch. Je kan zeggen dat je op de 'stoute jongens' lijstje kunt komen" (1)

And he dropped Dean with the same force as Sam. Dean felled the bones in his back brake, his lungs contracted so hard that he curled into a ball and gasped for air the same way a fish did when he was on land. The sheer force with he was dropped squashed his organs causing his abdomen to rip apart. Dean and Sam both defenseless waited for the kill, but Sinterklaas just shook his head, like a confused grandpa looking for his glasses. "Jullie zijn geen lieve kinderen," he said "Maar jullie zijn volwassen, jullie vallen niet onder mijn lijstje." (2) he hesitated, looking at both the Winchesters before saying with the soft comforting of a warm bed. "Ik weet dat ik het te laat is, maar, het spijt me." (3) He shook his head once more and just left. Just left.

 _Great,_ Dean thought, _not only I'm going to die, but a monster responsible is getting away_ and _I live by his mercy. Terrific._

Sam being the most able to crawl, crawled towards his brother. Without hesitation, Dean grabbed his brother's right hand. It was slippery from all the blood. Sam and Dean looked at each other, both eyes fierce and stubborn, both thinking the same. _Like Hell we are going to die here like this._

But they both knew, they were.

No one could survive the amount of blood loss they were suffering, and Charlie the reaper had promised them they would stay dead this time. He had believed her, he still does. They had too many shots at this life.

Sam coughed, and blood spattered on the floor and on Dean. Sam had a collapsed lung. Without a hospital or anything supernatural, he would choke on his own blood.A torturous but quick death. Dean made a decision right there and them.

He pulled Sammy closer, both of the brothers were unable to speak, so they both grunted at the pain that the movement had costed. Dean put pressure on his wound with both hands, leaving Sammy leaning on his side. There collected blood keeping their backs warm in a very unpleasant way.

"I'm, here Sammy." Dean managed to grunt out putting even more pressure on his wound. "I'm here"

"Sammy… I…. Sammy?"

Sam was dead.

Dean loosened a scream so loud it rattled the stars. He cursed, he trashed.

He cried. He cried for Sam, for himself and the world. Who was now a darker place without Sammy.

And he let go of his wound, not trying to stop the flow of blood.

Dean looked at the ceiling decorated with christmas lights and while he felt the life force ooze out of him, he smiled with tears flowing on cheeks.

 _You were never alone, Sam Winchester. In your life, I had always been there, on your deathbed, I let you go first. And now you better get ready because I am kicking some angels asses while I am coming to your heaven._

 _Just wait brother._

 _I am coming for you._

Being truly happy, Dean closed his eyes, still smiling and breathed his last breath.

 **Translations:**

 **I don't think I like your tone boy. You could say I could put you on the 'naughty' list ( the list of bad behaving children)**

 **You are not nice children. But you are adults so you don't fall under mine list.**

 **I know it's too late, but I am sorry**

 **What did you guys think? A nice way to end supernatural or do you want a nice sweet end?**

 **Let me know what you guys think. English isn't my first tongue so if you see a grammar mistake point it out so I can fix it. I hope you guys enjoyed! J**


End file.
